


To Love and to Hold

by colazitron



Series: Fic Advent 2014 [20]
Category: Stereo Kicks (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:10:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, Eleanor, want to show daddy what we can do now?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Love and to Hold

Eleanor looked up from where she was stacking - or at least trying to stack - wooden toy blocks as soon as the key scratched and turned in the front lock. It always surprised Tom that she noticed that noise, soft as it was, over the music playing, her own babbling, and the fact that Tom was cooking dinner. But she did, and she abandoned the blocks immediately, scrambling up onto her feet as fast as she could. (Which was not very fast.) She beamed at Tom and lifted her arms for him to lift her as he could hear the front door shut again. 

"Hey, loves," Barclay called into the flat. "I'm home." 

Eleanor bounced up and down in Tom's arm happily, making little "psh, psh" noises that Tom couldn't attribute to any particular word. She'd started to babble a bit more consistently recently. Words were still a bit of a way off, but she'd progressed from vague sounds and mostly wailing to things that at least sounded somewhat like they could turn into building blocks for actual words. 

"Shall we go say hello to daddy?" Tom asked her, rubbing his nose against her belly to make her grin. There was nothing quite as adorable as a grinning baby. And Tom was married to Barclay Beales, who was all in all a pretty adorable man. He'd know. 

Checking the heat on the stove was low enough so nothing would burn or boil over while he wandered out into the foyer area, he turned and walked through their little living room to catch Barclay as he was hanging his coat up. His cheeks were still flushed red from the cold outside and Tom leaned in to kiss his slightly chilly lips, just as Barclay did the same. It was only a brief peck hello, but Eleanor still found the time to slap her hand against Tom's cheek hard. 

"Ow, Eleanor," he said, putting on his best stern face. "We need to be gentle, remember?" 

She didn't look at all chastised or even like she understood him - mostly she looked confused - but she had somehow learned the meaning of a few other phrases and how to reach for/point at things she wanted, so Tom hoped that repetition and demonstration would teach her the meaning of 'gentle' as well. (As well as 'need to be'.) So far they had a pretty good track record after all. 

"She definitely gets that from you," Barclay said with a grin. 

Tom reached out a hand to swat Barclay on the arm automatically, probably only further proving his point. Technically, she hadn't gotten anything from either of them, being adopted and a bit too young to have picked up specific behavioural patterns. She didn't look anything like them, with her soft, thin, red hair and her freckles, but every time Tom looked at her she felt entirely his. Well, his and Barclay's. 

"How was your day?" Tom asked, making back towards the living room and, ultimately, the kitchen. Barclay followed, as he always did. 

"Good, yeah. Long," Barclay said, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and reaching for the pitcher of water Tom kept on the kitchen counter so he'd remember to drink more water. "Yours?" 

"Fine," Tom said, checking on the food before turning back to Eleanor, giving her a little bounce. 

"Hey, Eleanor, want to show daddy what we can do now?" he asked, more for Barclay's benefit, even if he was talking to her. Eleanor didn't really react to the statement very much at all, but Tom lowered her down onto the floor and turned her towards Barclay. Looking up at Barclay he could see his eyes widen. Barclay opened his arms to their daughter and Tom gave her a little nudge, pointing at Barclay. 

"Come on, try and walk over to daddy, yeah?" he said softly. 

She turned to look at him for a moment, then turned back around to Barclay, beamed, and took a few fumbling steps towards him. She made it almost all the way before she over-balanced, but Barclay caught her before she could fall and swooped her up into his arms, standing back up. 

"Princess! That's amazing!" he said, grin big on his face as he nuzzled her belly with his nose and then swung her around a bit, making her giggle. 

Tom watched them with a smile lighting up his own face. It felt both like yesterday and like a hundred years ago that they'd brought her home. She'd been such a tiny bundle of a human, could easily fit along one of Barclay's forearm. And now she was walking. Christ. She was growing so fast, and Tom was pretty sure he loved her more every day. Soon she'd be talking and picking her own clothes and going off to nursery school and moving out. 

Well, alright, maybe Tom was getting ahead of himself a bit there. 

Only three years ago, before he'd met Barclay, he couldn't for the life of him imagine wanting something as permanent as a family and now every time he looked at the two of them he was so immensely grateful he got to have them in his life every day from now until he died. Even if the thought of Eleanor growing up and Barclay and he growing old was more than just a bit scary. 

Those were problems for another day anyway, he thought as he stepped over to the two of them, kissing them both on the cheek. For now there was dinner to finish and a diaper to change, by the smell of things. Everything else could wait. 


End file.
